Tuesday, March 31, 2009


I've been battling a very sore throat the last two days. I stayed home from work yesterday to try and sleep it off, and while it did improve in the late afternoon/evening, by the time I was going to bed and throughout the night, it was back again with a vengeance.

Today it seems as bad if not a bit worse. I called the doctor and have an appointment scheduled for this afternoon. So now I've just got to make it from now to then. And the I've got to wait for whatever medicine they prescribe me to do its job.

Perhaps I've got strep throat. All I know is that right now, I can't swallow without very strong pain and I haven't eaten all morning as a consequence. So, my energy level isn't very strong either. I guess I should try to get some office work done--stuff that isn't very taxing--but I just want to sleep. I'm sure I'll pay for putting things off later.

Monday, March 30, 2009

Something inside me is broken

That sounds overly dramatic, but I am feeling pretty vulnerable right now and that is the phrase that comes to mind.

The past two days, I have completely lost my temper around my kids in ways that make me very ashamed. One instance is due to childishness on everyone's part (though I am not supposed to be the child here) and the other one was due to my temper being released much too quickly.

Ultimately, what so often causes me to act in such a juvenile and contemptible way is the fact that my kids see fit to argue with me on things I have just answered them about. If someone is eating an apple in the van, comes home, throws the unfinished apple away, and then asks if they can have a different snack, I'm going to say "No." And then they start whining and mewling and trying to give me bullshit reasoning about how they didn't know they were going to be wasting anything. And it simply doesn't matter what I say or how I try to explain the idiotic flaws in their statement. They are too busy contradicting me.

Its the audacity of it all that drives me to such anger. How can they ask me a question, knowing completely that they don't CARE the answer I give? And they don't. If they really cared about the answer, if they really needed to ask the question to achieve approval, then they might actually consider the answer that I deliver. But they only do it as some sort of meaningless, hollow formality because we've trained them (at least this much) to ask questions and not go off half-cocked and do whatever the hell they want. But it amounts to the same thing in the end, because I'm simply wasting my breath and my time flapping my lips about some answer they don't like and they don't care about.

I can't stand it when pre-pubescent kids think they are smarter than me or have the right to contradict me--especially when it is my own children. I have tried to be fair and I've tried to teach them the reasons behind the choices that I make. But if it happens to be something they don't agree with, they feel free to argue with me about it.

(I really shouldn't be writing this and making it public, I guess, but I've just got to get this out. It is eating me inside and its just going to cause more anger and more tempers.)

I don't know where I went wrong, because it must have come from me, right? It is my responsibility to raise them correctly, so if they act this way, it can't be anyone's fault but my own. And I don't know how to fix it. They get angry, they don't respond to spankings, and it is surely due to a pattern of reactions that I have created over the years in similar circumstances. Maybe, maybe it'll change as they age but who's to say? I am so afraid inside that it is going to escalate into much more dangerous behavior once older kids are confronted with much more dangerous choices and much more significant consequences.

Every time this happens, I am so furious with myself and I try to think of ways to prevent it from happening again. But I just don't know what to do.

Sunday, March 29, 2009


It's been a while, but I finally got a bit of updating done on Raising the AWESOME Family.

Check it out here.

I think that will satisfy me for today. I know that it's been a light weekend, but I just don't want to spend more time blogging today. If I did, I'd just complain about stuff that happened during bedtime. (I almost did, but I'm trying to talk myself out of it. If you can't say something nice, don't blog about anything at all.)

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Drama and (not total) darkness

If I could conjure up the drama shown in these movie clips, even my most mundane moments of creating a pedestrian blog post would be captivating.

I apologize to the Earth that I forgot to remember Earth Hour. Though most of our lights were out at the time, as we were getting kids to bed. But the 8:30 to 9:30 hour came and went and neither Lynda nor I turned off the lights. (More to the pity, I suppose.)

Still, any old hour will be just as helpful won't it? (Or maybe not?)

And, yeah, that's it for me tonight.

Friday, March 27, 2009

"The Perfect as the Enemy of the Good"

I didn't know what I was going to write about today and it almost became a crisis. I sat a few minutes ago and thought to myself . . . do I want to let this day go by without a post? Do I want to let go of the arbitrary idea of writing a post every day? Let's say I accomplish it. What does that mean? Does it make me better or worse or nothing at all?

But I figured I'd at least put in an effort.

But when I sat down to write, well, what?

So, I flipped over to Blogger and looked at my Dashboard. I selected the drafts item and the computer pulled up all of the ideas I've started but never completed. All of the posts that started out with an inspiration but maybe never went past a title. Some have some quickly jotted notes. Some have a few paragraphs and then . . . stop . . . 

I decided to try and do something with this one, based mostly on the title that was sitting there. I remember that when I first started this post, back in January, I was struck by the fact that I heard that phrase "the perfect as the enemy of the good" several times in one week. And I don't think I had ever heard it before.

Based on the timing, I suspect that one aspect of this phrase came from something about President Obama's inauguration and speculation about what sort of president he might be. As I interpret the phrase, we cannot let the idea of a perfect solution inhibit our ability to BEGIN down the path of accomplishing a task. Essentially, its a restatement of that old phrase--"A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." Or, you can't let the forest prevent you from appreciating the trees. And other stuff like that.

Continuing with the political angle, we all know that the economy is in a mess. And there are lots of ideas on how to fix it. And Obama's opponents have many opinions about how he is tasking others and how those others are tackling the problem. But with a problem so large, how does one begin? And what is the best solution to such a complicated problem that stretches out in all directions? I guess one solution that folds into "the perfect as the enemy of the good" is that we/they should start doing something rather than continue thinking about what ELSE we might be doing.

Lynda and I are people that want to be right and to Get It Right. We have, at times, struggled against the need to accomplish perfection. But I am better able to throw something out there and refine it later. (As evidenced--or not?--by the majority of my blog posts over the last several years.) She is more apt to be paralyzed by the unfinished nature of her work and the details of everything between Step 1 and Step 1000.

So, my advice to all of you (and you KNOW who you are) is to take that step. Don't be paralyzed by the unknown or the unfinished path that stretched ahead. Take the step and look for the good as you travel down the path. You might still reach something much more perfect than you expected.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Rainy Thursday, continued

Sorry to have to break this day's post into two pieces, but the ABC LOST Untangled video never fails to make my IE browser crash when I try to do anything to a post after I've inserted the HTML code.

(Kind of makes you wonder why I bother . . . knowing that this will happen EVERY week.)

Anyway, my first half of the day's thoughts can be found directly below this one. I left off wondering about the reality and authenticity of digitally-created spaces, musing on which of my various digital domains is the most accurate me and wondering if someone hits upon me somewhere else, will they wish to or try to follow the breadcrumbs back to HERE, the mothership, the place I really want everyone to be anyway.

And, if here is where I want everyone to be, should I even be messing about with the other things? Does it divert the effort, dilute the quality? Is it even effective as a digital net, thrown wider into different parts of the river?


In other thoughts you didn't care about, I find that I rather enjoy watching Brotherhood 2.0 on my iPhone. It works surprisingly well and seems almost to be the most appropriate space in which to watch.

You're welcome.


Later still (almost 3 pm)

Parenting is sometimes very odd. It presents you with strange tasks that you simply aren't equipped to deal with.

For example, when your sick daughter is facing the request to swallow fever-reducing pills . . . and she complains that she doesn't like the taste . . . but you get her to take them anyway . . . and then she proceeds to bite into them (guaranteeing the bitter taste she says she doesn't like) . . . and you caution her against doing that with pill no. 2 . . . but she says that she doesn't know how to swallow them with water UNLESS she crunches them up (??!!!) . . . well, what do you do?

How do you teach her to swallow?

(Here is where I pause to say that I am thankful that I don't have a special needs child where these very tasks that I am perplexed by are the everyday currency of raising such a child . . . so, I should just shut up.)

But, how do you conceptualize the idea of swallowing? Isn't that almost an autonomic function? And the pills aren't horse-pill size, so what is going on here?

So, she crunches, makes a face, and then takes forever to grind up the bits and swallow the chalky stuff down with more water. And I just want to say . . . wash the next one down whole with one swig of water. But, it doesn't work?



One more video-based entry to come later today and then this day's posting is finished.

. . . wait for it . . .

And here it is (as of 4:30 pm).

Rainy Thursday

Today is a grim, rainy, gloomy day.

And, naturally, one of the kids is sick.

It's Grace this time. She had a slight fever around dinnertime on Wednesday, which rose a bit during the night. This morning her fever remained and she dry heaved a bit in the car when Lynda was taking Hannah to daycare and Sarah to school. So, I was at work briefly. (Naturally last night was the first night in forever I didn't even bring my laptop home, so I had to go to work to deal with some emails and then bring things home to be productive while I Grace-sit.)

Now she's upstairs sleeping and I'm working on stuff and coordinating emails from the dinner table. I didn't have any meetings today, so its not bad to be home. And Lynda is very busy today shepharding her project through its final day of file preparation. So, I'm drawing the short straw--but that isn't the best description.

Here's last night's episode of LOST Untangled:

More later.


Now later (12:30ish)

Here's a "philosophical" question for you. If someone randomly begins following me on my Twitter feed or becomes a Facebook friend, will they naturally slide on over to my WWYG?! page--which I somehow consider the actual me--the most authentic digital version of me?

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Techno Red Riding Hood

The presence of such a video means:

a) in a world increasingly flooded with information, this is how we will tell the fairy tales of the future.

b) geeks during a recession have too much computing power and too much time on their hands.

c) this is how Lt. Commander Data understood the world.

SlagsmÄlsklubben - Sponsored by destiny from Tomas Nilsson on Vimeo.

(thanks to Gizmodo for my first sighting . . .)

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

"[I'm] the best daddy in the world!"

So said Grace this afternoon. Ahh, but there is a reason, you see. There is always a cause and effect.

The story begins . . .

I was driving home from daycare, by way of the elementary school. I had a van full of adolescents--three of them mine, counting the infant plus the neighbor girl. I turned the car through the neighborhood streets and spied in front of me--approximately two blocks away?--what might have been a rent-a-ambulance.

But, no . . . I thought. No siren or lights. So, what else could it be (I thought naively)? I already knew what it was. Though the chatter in the van prevented me from hearing its siren song . . . I knew.

The vehicle pulled over to the side of the road, resting along the curb. A tell-tale sign, to be sure. But I remained quiet as I drove up on it from behind. (Would the kids notice, I wondered? Ha! Another moment of naivetĂ©.) A kid approached the vehicle as it waited alongside the curb. And as I got closer, the sound grew noticeable. And then . . . the kids in the van noticed.

"Is that the ICE CREAM TRUCK?" one of them asked. Though I kept my eyes on the road as I drove, I imagined two other adolescent heads turning with laser precision toward the vehicle ahead. I stayed quiet, knowing that whatever I said was moot. It was the ice cream truck, indeed and for certain.

But, what was I to do? I was on the road, laden with children--one of them an infant. I couldn't just stop the van, step out, and by the way . . . who had money--besides me, of course?

I asked this of the adolescents. "Who has money? Do you? Or you? And what about you?" (I'm not even your parent, I thought to the third one. What do I do with you?) So, as the ice cream truck served another customer, I drove on by--but slowly, making sure that sugar-crazed children didn't dart in front of me.

The dismay from the back of the van was strong. 

But I had a plan. I knew that if they had the ability, they would already be throwing themselves out of the unopenable windows of the van, desperate for the ice cream I was heedlessly driving by. But I had to get the van parked. They had to get their money. And I had a baby to control.

So, we drove on, leaving the ice cream truck behind. And the adolescents wailed in dismay. They thought their chance was gone. They wondered how I could be so heartless, so cruel, so adult. 

I turned the van onto our street and pulled into the driveway. I knew the ice cream truck was back there, slowly trolling for kids, approaching like a shark . . . . I told the kids to get inside and grab their wallets. They could buy their own ice cream. They dashed off and somehow located their wallets in no time--a feat almost unheard of in our family. Somehow, without my knowledge, negotiations were made with the neighbor girl. They would take care of her. No hunger would be left behind on this day--regular diet or familial expectations be damned. I stayed quiet.

They dashed back out of the house with gleeful eyes and a bounce in their steps. But should they wait in front of our house? Would the ice cream truck turn to the right and come down our street or would it head on straight? To be safe, they headed up to the corner that I had turned on, paralleling the path of the truck, waiting and watching as it approached.

I put the baby in the stroller and wandered up the street to meet them just as the truck arrived. I gave no input on what they would buy, nor worried about the price. Their money, their choice. In the end, a fudge bar, an ice cream sandwich, and a rainbow-flavored snow cone (with a gumball buried at the bottom!) were chosen.

I was praised . . . and rightly so!

Though this moment of happy satisfaction would later come to an end, it wasn't due to ice cream or hunger. More the common vagaries of young girls reacting to disagreements. But those moments would come later. For now, I was the best daddy in the world.

Monday, March 23, 2009

I welcome our robotic overlords

Last Friday night's series finale of Battlestar Galactica was good. I won't say it was great (to me) just because I found some choices confusing, spun out of pure luck, and--one or twice--a bit heavy-handed.


For instance:

1. While I welcomed the lengthy and quite impressive battle sequence that took up much of the first hour--the type of realistic space maneuvering and insanely quality CGI that made me love the show in season 1--I found it remarkably convenient in the end that when the truce went horribly wrong . . . Cavil suicided. How does that fit his character? To my mind, it does not. But it sure was a convenient way to remove the last member of the Cylons that would have stopped at nothing to keep hunting down the rag tag fleet.

2. And what are the chances that the nuclear missiles that launched--by random crashing of battle debris--managed to be targeted directly at the colony, thus ensuring the vast majority (all?) of the remaining Cylons and centurions were vaporized, never to be heard from again. Lucky that, wot?

3. But of course, as the nukes are going off, the Galactica has to get out of there, right? And luckily, Starbuck just happens to use the mysterious musical notes from "All Along the Watchtower" (I know, if you haven't watched the show you've got NO IDEA what I'm saying right now.) to use as space coordinates. And lucky for humanity's sake, those coordinates bring the fleet to our own little blue marble.

4. Yep, their fabled Earth was a nuked-out husk. So, when the deus ex machina of Starbuck's musical talent saved them and brought them to our end of the Milky Way, well then, they'll just call this hospitable place Earth. Isn't that convenient? Entirely so, yes!

5. And Katee Sackhoff's frustration at how her character (Starbuck) was "explained?" Justified, I think.

6. But wait, did I say deus ex machina up there? Sorry. We learned from the Head Batlar/Head Six "angels" in the coda that "It" doesn't like being called "God." Really? 

7. And then there is the coda itself. I don't mind Ron Moore's cameo. I applaud him for his years of hard work and celebrate him for accomplishing his vision on his own terms. But I will say that warning us, the modern 21st century TV viewers that robots are among us and maybe, just maybe, they'll rise up against us if we aren't careful. Well, yeah that kind of stuff is out there right now. And certainly our military is more robotic now than it has ever been. But it just seemed a bit . . . unnecessary.

8. In the end, the amount of reliance upon divine forces as an explanatory out for all of the writer's loose ends just seemed out of place and off tone to me. Yes, I know that the Cylons' have always been showed as a monotheistic group. And the Colonials invoked their gods at every turn, especially when they were cursing. But Ron Moore didn't strike me as especially religious. And since he brought the show to a conclusion on our Earth and the final scene was set in our time and it was provided as a bit of a warning to us, well, then it seems less likely to shrug all the religion off as just fictional storytelling.

All that said, Battlestar Galactica provided excellent televised entertainment (for free) for over four years. And that is something to appreciate. I never loved the show with the unreserved abandon of the first season--and I don't think any episode outside of the original miniseries approached the excellence of the first series episode "33," but the characters were rich and the topics they tackled were thought provoking.

Not many other shows can dare make a similar claim.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Sunday stuff

I want to make a video today, on one of two topics, but I haven't made myself do it yet. Up to now, of course, I've been busy with waking up, eating breakfast, cleaning up, going to church, eating lunch, straightening the kitchen, making brownies for Grace's Daisy Scout meeting on Monday, folding laundry and starting another load . . . and NOT eating Girl Scout cookies.

So, up until now, I haven't had the time.

But now--technically at least--I do have the time. The older girls are pursuing other pursuits. Lynda is (I think) engaging in a Facebook threaded conversation about religion/charity/welfare/and government. [If you are one of her Fb friends, I encourage you to join in!] Hannah is sleeping. (But for how long?)

So, I could pick up my camera and talk into it. But I'm oddly self conscious about it. I suppose I know that if I do it on the main floor, the kids are going to want to get involved. And if I try to hide in the basement or somewhere, I add some element of mystery to what is really an everyday type of thing. So, maybe I'll wait until later?

Battery's running out on the laptop, so I've got to stop this. Might update with video later, but then again, it might be pushed off to another day.

LATER . . .

6: 45 PM

Sorry, but there will be no video today.

I wisely spent much of the afternoon outside with my family. We did some cleaning up of the backyard, pulling dandelions, raking dead leaves, pulling up dessicated plant stuff from before winter, and pruning here and there.

Then Hannah and I went for a walk around the neighborhood while Lynda vacuumed inside. When I got home, I grilled out turkey burgers and now we are shifting into end-of-day mode, edging toward baths, books, and bed.

Maybe . . . just maybe, I'll summon up the effort to do some work when the sun goes down. 

But why ruin a pretty good day with that?

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Parks and Bricks

Today I took the kids to Alum Creek Park. Lynda had to spend time working on stuff that had to be mailed by 4 pm and she needed some quiet time to think. So, the girls and I headed out.

We were going to go to a different park a bit closer to our house, but it is in the midst of being reconstructed so it wasn't an option.

Actually, my original plan was to take everyone to the zoo but somehow that idea changed during Hannah's nap. I wasn't privy to all of the options given between Lynda and Sarah and Grace, but our destination changed. At least I found out about it before I was halfway down the Interstate. It's too bad really, because I like taking the kids to the zoo. It allows us to walk around more than we do at the parks, which--for me at least--tend to be more stationary affairs.

Still and all, Alum Creek is a nice park. It's open, wide, and has lots of play options for the girls--sand pits, slides, things that spin, things to climb on. Along with plenty of trees, a baseball field, a volleyball court, grills, swings. Its on the edge of the Otterbein College campus and has a ice atmosphere. Even Hannah had a train to play on.

Beside the park, on the other side of the parking road is a spillway for the titular creek. After we played for around an hour or an hour-and-a-half we started back to the van to head home. But the girls wanted to took at the spillway and stare down into the water. While they looked, I was looking at the brick and concrete pathway/wall that formed a border to the footpath beside the creek bed.

I don't know how old the bricks are but the concrete holding much of it together was crumbling. It exposed some of the bricks and I could see interesting names on them. I thought I'd take a few pictures.

I did a quick Google search and found this interesting article on the history of decorative paving blocks in Ohio. With a quick skim of the article, I didn't see specific mention of the "Townsend Block 7" or the "Hocking Valley Block" but there is a very nice picture matching the "Nelsonville Block."

It seems that these pavers have been here for quite a while.

Friday, March 20, 2009

LOST ep.5-09 "Namaste"

Here is the latest "LOST Untangled" video for this week's "Namaste" episode.

I allowed myself to get a bit off schedule and need to catch up a bit on my LOST sequence (yeah, I've got a LOST sequence).

I really enjoyed this episode, but I can't spend more time on that right now.

I've got a different idea for more posting later, so today might be a two-post day. Or I could save it for Saturday, but that would get in the way of another idea I've got to implement.

(Sounds like I am also suffering from an addiction to brain crack. I would have embedded this video as well, but two imbeds in one post seems unseemly, and the program crashed twice in earlier attempts, and well, the first thirty seconds of the "brain crack" video might be slightly off-color for some. You've been mildly warned.)

Anyway, here's your LOST-related video:

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Stuff in my head

When I got home from work today, I got into a bit of a bad mood--admittedly over a kind of petty thing . . . but, well . . . doesn't everyone get irritated with stuff from time to time?

I could go into what irritated me . . . but the ultimate point, and the more important things to write about here are twofold:

1. As a way of dealing with my irritation, I played the angry things I might have said and the angry things I thought mostly in my head. Do you do this? Surely this happens a lot, right? We are taught to control our anger and to be nice, so when we get upset about something and we are in a position where we have to be nice, we play out the alternate options in our head. I always think of this as the Tom Sawyer/Huck Finn scenario. Remember when Tom and Huck staged their deaths so they could be secret witnesses to their funerals, allowing them to hear the kind words of their relatives and friends that they never heard during their "living" interactions. I've been doing this sort of internal monologue for years. I specifically remember doing this when I was a younger teen (or preteen) and was struggling with my relationship--or more specifically my LACK of relationships with girls. I imagined people reacting sadly over my passing and wishing they had been nicer to me when they had the chance.

(And YES, I am very aware how narcissistic this makes me seem--especially when you factor that I am discussing my internal fantasies on my own blog page. I should probably just leave it right there before I embarrass myself irrevocably.)

(I am, of course, assuming that I haven't crossed the irrevocable line already . . .)

2. But the most important thing to point out here is that I got over my irritation and told my inner angry voices to shut up. How did I do this? Mostly by getting outside with Grace and Hannah and enjoying the pretty--if chilly--late afternoon. As Lynda mentioned on her Fb page a few days ago, a improvement in the weather, along with the decision to get out there in it and experience it, can do wonders for a bad attitude.

So I got over my feelings and enjoyed a bit of relaxing time with my daughters.


Here's another thing that I can tell you about, to help you cheer up on whatever day you are reading this.

Look at this picture:

Isn't this amazing?

It is more specifically extraordinary. This is an extraordinary chicken, no?

If you don't think so, they you, my friend need to reevaluate because this is a picture of a chicken in a calendar called Extraordinary Chickens. And while this calendar is not specifically mine, it is hanging in my cubicle.

You see, one of my coworkers did not have a 2009 calendar a while back--back when her birthday was coming up last month. So, as a joke, another of my coworkers got her this chicken calendar. And the recipient is definitely NOT a chicken calendar type of woman. She laughed, of course, but she chose not to hang it up. Eventually it migrated to my desk and, since I have no scruples, I hung it up. In part, I hung it up as a perpetual reminder of my friend, my blogging companion, and former coworker Lulu. She could probably identify the breed of chicken that this is--and if not this one, the later ones to come.

Because, I'll be posting the other monthly extraordinary chickens as the months go by. 

Look forward to it.

It you don't enjoy it, then you can conduct your own disagreements inside your own head--Tom & Huck style.

Or share them publicly in the comments. It's your choice.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Books on my nightstand

  • Stephen King's Wizard and Glass, which is book IV in the Dark Tower series. Shirtless claims that this is his favorite book in the series. After this one, I've got three more to go. (Borrowed from MS.)
Chuck Klosterman's Downtown Owl. This is Klosterman's first fictional novel. I've greatly enjoyed all of his pop culture essay collections and other nonfictional works. I was going to get this book for my sister for Christmas, but I couldn't find a copy when I went looking--and I don't remember why that was now. But it's okay because I got her David Sedaris' When You Are Engulfed in Flames instead. I knew she'd like that. And she did. (Borrowed from BH.)

Antoine de Saint Exupery's The Little Prince. I remember this when it was a animated story when I was a kid. But I didn't watch it then. And I've never read this before. I decided to read it after last month's LOST episode was influenced by and entitled "The Little Prince." I admit that I've pushed it aside in favor of a few other things. But I'm gonna get to it soon. (Borrowed from DG.)

Stephanie Meyer's New Moon. Book two in the Twilight series. (Yes, I am reading them. So sue me!) One of my coworkers claims that this is her favorite book in the series. We'll see. (Borrowed from SC.)

David Foster Wallace's Girl with Curious Hair. (This one is actually mine!) I read the first story and then got involved in some of these other books. But I'll get back to it soon--just like The Little Prince.)

Secular Sanctuary by _____. I forgot who wrote this small book. And I don't want to go back upstairs now and find out, as it might wake up the kids. I tried to look it up on Amazon.com, but paging through a few screens didn't yield the information that I was looking for. I borrowed this book from my mom. We were discussing some LOST episodes last year, spinning some theories about what was happening on the show . . . and Mom mentioned this book and how some theory that I mentioned before reminded her of what she'd read in the book. I think she was reading this for a religious class she was taking, but I've had this book for a while and I'm hoping that Mom will let me hold onto it a bit longer. As you can see, I've got lots of books sitting on the runway waiting for takeoff.

Charles Schultz's The Complete Peanuts 1953-1954. This is the second volume in this series. I got it for Christmas and Sarah almost immediately took it from me and started reading it herself. And then she started copying Schultz's style in drawing some heavily influenced comic strips of her own. I am enjoying (some) reading Schultz's earliest Peanuts work, but it is even drier that the Peanuts of the 1970s and 1980s when I read the strip daily. But, I'm a completist, so I'm going to go through the whole sweep of things . . . eventually.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

St. Patrick's Day prank

Happy St. Patrick's Day from my daughter Sarah.

I'm so proud of how nicely she's growing up.

(And you wonder why I think she break every rule behind my back that I can set.)

Monday, March 16, 2009

Women love him; men fear him

I was just about ready to give up on writing a post tonight, thereby ending the hope for the post-a-day endeavor.

But then, salvation came from the Sci-Fi Network. (Or should I call it the SyFy Network . . . though I'm not quite sure why anyone would want to.)

After I watched tonight's episode of How I Met Your Mother, I flipped over to the SciFi Network while waiting for the VCR to finish recording Chuck. The network was showing what appeared to be "Encounter at Farpoint," the premiere episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation. It was the end of the episode and Captain Picard and Commander Riker were on the bridge, sitting in their command chairs and waxing eloquently about the possibilities for the future and what remained to be seen out there . . . blah, blah. The episode ended and there were a few commercials.

Suddenly, a new episode of ST:TNG began at the nine o'clock hour. And . . . FAST FORWARD somewhere into season two! The new episode (entitled "The Child" for you completists out there) began with a much more hip Riker sitting alone in the big Captain's chair. The juxtaposition  between the two episodes, separated by only two minutes of commercials was stark--and they outlined what I find so awesome . . . and hilarious . . . about how actor Jonathan Frakes evolved the character of first officer William T. Riker.

In "Encounter at Farpoint" Riker (and all the characters really) were stiff, uncomfortable. Riker was smooth-shaven, thinner, and rigid in his careful posture. But, by the time they filmed "The Child," everyone had grown into a familiarity with the character they were being asked to play--and the writing staff had also figured out who the characters were as well.

As "The Child" opens, BMOC Riker is shown slouching sideways in the Captain's chair. The rigidity of his original posture is gone. Riker is completely at ease with an entire starship at his fingertips. He's also sporting his awesome (and from then-on-signature) beard of supreme manliness. He is called into the captain's Ready Room and the scene shifts to the interior of the office. Riker walks to the captain's desk and settles himself down into the awaiting chair. But he doesn't walk in front of the chair and settle down backwards into it like any other male would. Nope, not this star commander. He walks up to the back of the chair and throws his right leg over the top of the chair to settle down. (It helps that the chair was low in profile, but still!)

At this point in the scene, I begin crowing to Lynda how awesome Riker's character is, composing many of the things that you've just read. The very fact that he settles into a chair that way is so . . . awesome . . . and so unnecessarily male.

To make it even better, when the conference with the captain is over, he actually reverses the chair maneuver to stand up and walk away from the chair. He throws his leg over the chair backwards! I wasn't even prepared for that, but for it to happen was just great.)

I'm sure this means nothing to whomever is reading this.

Just know that it is awesome.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Sunday sunshine

We went for another bike ride today, on a fine example of what a March weekend can be in Ohio but usually isn't.

It was successful, minus the painful scrape I got on my right leg while messing around on a playground. Grace did a very good job of sticking with it and rode a long way. (Lynda and I have agreed that we're going to take the training wheels off later this summer and see how she handles it.)

Now our older girls are out in the backyard with the neighbor's two kids and two other girls from the neighborhood wandered by and are playing as well. Though Lynda says we'll never have "the cool backyard," I'd say it is a pretty successful Sunday all things considered.

And I think that's all the time I am willing to devote to this on a nice Sunday afternoon. Soon enough we'll have to turn our attention to dinner preparations, baths, bed, and then Lynda and I will likely pull out the laptops to do some weekend work.

But best not to think about that now.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Stairs and Pools

In the last three days or so, I have seen Hannah commit herself to being an upright walker more determinedly than since she first started taking steps. What I mean by that is, she is choosing to walk rather than crawl. (For example, she chose to walk over here just now to grab at my key pad and make me type $@DDdk49e instead of whatever I was trying to say.)

Additionally, she has become quite adept at climbing up our stairs--and seems to enjoy it really. This is (of course) good and bad. It is good that she is stronger and more mobile. It is bad that she is actively looking to climb higher, raising the possibilities of falling farther.

Let me tell you a story about that . . .

Friday afternoon, I picked up the girls and brought them home after Sarah's elementary school let out. Normal stuff. But I hadn't yet seated the knowledge in my brain that Hannah is a climber now. So, I let her roam a bit while I put bookbags away, checked email, straightened up the house a bit from the morning's rush to get out the door. I realized that I didn't hear her, but that isn't always bad, (Though, admittedly, it usually is . . . and usually signals that she's currently tearing up paper and eating it in some corner somewhere, or pulling out endless tissues from the magic tissue box, or pulling all the diapers out of a pack and littering the floor with them. You get the idea.)

So, I walked around the corner and saw that Sarah and Grace were watching some afternoon TV. But Hannah wasn't there.

And then it dawned on me.

I had not blocked the base of the stairs when I walked in the door--because I had not trained myself yet that this is the first thing I need to do when I walk in the house with Hannah.

I dashed up the stairs (thanking my stars that she wasn't teetering on the edge somewhere) and headed where I figured she'd be. Sure enough, she was half a house away and eight feet up from where I started, in Sarah's room pulling markers out of a plastic bin. She was safe.

But, man! The problems that could have happened! And entirely my mistake. I won't be making THAT one again.


About Hannah's decision to head straight to Sarah's room.

I've seen her do this several times when she is upstairs crawling around with us at bath time. She invariably makes a bee line to Sarah's desk and starts pulling open the bin's plastic drawers that hold Sarah's markers. 

I'm no doctor, but this tells me that Hannah has developed memory and visualization skills enough to mark a place she cannot see and remember a sequence of choices that aren't immediately in front of her. In short, her brain is now developed enough to map her environment and "project" spaces and items outside of her visual field.

Good stuff!


In other news, it's mid March! Do you know where your Bracket is?

I am going to put together my typical Bracket group at work this year--a small group of dedicated friends who like to throw in a few bucks to spice up the fun of the NCAA basketball tournament. To avoid hassles on everyone's part, I'll be utilizing the CBS web-based bracket manager system that I've leaned on in the past. (I toyed with the notion of crafting my own web site this year, but it would be unnecessary work and would demand that participants add yet another user name and password to their already complicated lives.)

So, if you are reading this and want to participate, shoot me an email. I've have the sign-in information ready by Monday afternoon or Tuesday morning. You'll have until noon Thursday to log into the site and make your picks. It doesn't take long to remember your information from past years or to start a new account if you are new to my Pool.

So, give it a whirl if you're interested.

Talk to you again tomorrow.

Friday, March 13, 2009


I was still feeling a bit off on Thursday, and I made the (mistake) of telling Lynda about it. She wanted me to call my doctor and talk to a nurse, describe my symptoms and see if they were concerned.

Now, I really dislike being a stereotypical male in most any circumstances, but I'll admit that here is (at least) one area where I meet the expectation. I don't like doctors all that much. I guess I don't seek them out unless I am in obvious distress. But if symptoms are vague or seem inconsequential, I'll probably just keep my mouth shut and wait.

Now, long time readers of WWYG?! will remember that the last time I shut up and let symptoms lie, I ended up in the hospital for three days after (semi?) emergency abdominal surgery. You can re-read that saga here, here, and here.) But before I went under the knife, I spent half a weekend in pretty severe abdominal stress. (Hey, I thought I was just constipated!)

Well . . . I told Lynda that I was still feeling "not quite right" this afternoon and she quickly reminded me of the story I just told you. She pretty much demanded that I call the doctor's office and talk to a nurse. Perhaps the nurse could identify a severe problem from a minor inconvenience?

And so, with much reluctance, I did call about 4 o'clock Thursday afternoon. I went through the phone tree of keypad choices and finally got through to the receptionist (or nurse?) assigned to my doctor. I tried to begin explaining the start of my symptoms--sort of a fullness of the stomach, but not painful. And before I could get much further, she asked me (again) for my name, in a pretty curt fashion. She then put me on hold and I waited, trying to frame my symptom description and be honest without downplaying anything. I honestly would like to know if there is something wrong that DEMANDS attention . . . but I don't want to be a hypochondriac about it either.

She got back on the line and asked me for my birthday (I guess to verify that I was a patient there) and asked me again for my symptoms. I started to tell her and she kind of cut me off to say that I needed to go the the ER or the urgent care facility.

I was taken aback by this, since I'd barely described that there was anything wrong with me at all. How did SHE know what I needed to do? And it was all done in this condescending voice that made me regret even more the decision to call in the first place. I tried to clarify that I didn't think the ER was necessary . . . I just wanted to describe my feelings and get an opinion. But she cut me off quickly again and said something to the effect that if I'd called earlier (again, with disdain) I could have seen a doctor today, but as it was now . . . it was too late. So I should just go to the hospital. What I'd described (a grand total of three sentences and maybe 34 words?) could be anything and I should just go to the ER or the urgent care to have it resolved.

She was pretty much done with me--and not any too soon, based on her tone of voice--and wasn't I stupid for not dealing with things sooner!?!

Needless to say, I got her message and ended the conversation. She wasn't at all concerned with my well being or trying to listen to my concerns. She only wanted to emphasize that I had made poor decisions, and she wasn't responsible (or liable . . . absolutely not liable) for whatever happened next.

So, I've gone on my merry way. I'm certainly not calling HER office back.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

[i'm so done, i'm not even giving this a title . . . or capitalization]

I'm done for today.

(Today being Wednesday.)

I brought home a small bit of work to do, thinking that I'd be good, conscientious, take advantage of not having LOST as a distractor . . . but once I got home, I just lost steam. In a move that Lulu might recognize, I got into my pajama pants, pulled a sweatshirt over my head, and just mentally and physically gave up for the night.

Maybe the bite of chilly wind after a weekend of nice temperatures has demoralized me. Maybe the sense that some work things are winding down a small bit and there isn't a daily mental grind that keeps me focused. Maybe it was the visit from Lynda's parents that helped throw me out of the regular, rather rigid pattern of my daily movements.

But whatever the reason, I just want to slouch in a chair up in the bedroom and read until my eyelids droop. And that probably won't be very long.

Additionally, I've been struggling with this lack of energy, a vague feeling of nausea, and a pain in my lower back. And I just don't feel comfortable in my body right now.

Wait a minute . . .

(checking symptoms . . . looking at them disbelievingly)


Wednesday, March 11, 2009

More fun (?) w/ camera phone

Geez, kid! Don't you know these people are heroes?
When was the last time you got strapped to a roman candle and shot into the harsh, unforgiving, cold, cruel, immense depths of inhuman Space . . . huh?!

Show some respect for your betters!

(If you liked that, then see a bit more here.)

Tuesday, March 10, 2009


My brother Muleskinner's birthday was today.

When I think of him, musician and artist immediately come to mind as descriptors. Now, I think he would be the first to agree with you that these descriptions conjure up the idea of a "free spirit" or a tempestuous individual that struggles to find place in conformist society. He has done some of this over the years, but without those events and challenges, he wouldn't be who he is now--and he'd also be the first person to agree with that statement as well.

I could/should spend about five or six hours carefully crafting a detailed post about how amazing and interesting he is and how much of an influence and a role model he has been to me since I was growing up . . . but in typical WWYG?! fashion, I'll try to give you a tenth of what might be inside my head.

"Muleskinner" introduced me to the idea of High School marching band--an organization that meant a lot to him when he was growing up and subsequently meant a lot to me as I was growing up after him. I remember the feelings of pride and admiration that I had when he was selected to be the drum major for his senior season, and how that season was one of the most triumphant in the history of a very good band/orchestral program. They won every tournament they entered that year, they were invited as the state's representative in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, and my brother was at the front of the column in every instance. I knew that halftime performance by heart, having listened to it many times in the stadium. I knew many of the moves. I felt so proud of him.

Later when I was in the same band, there was a moment in my junior year when people asked me to try out for drum major. I did not want to do it--in part because I didn't think I was suited for the task of stand-out leader. I also knew that part of the motivations for the requests from my peers was to serve as an alternative to another potential candidate that many feared might win the job. But . . . I also didn't want to compete with the memory of my brother and his accomplishments. I couldn't match those moments; I didn't want to be compared to that and needed to find my own place outside of him. (Long story short--I DID try out, but justifiably and rightly for all, I didn't get the post. And yes, I did find my own way outside of "Muleskinner's" shadow.)

Another moment in my HS band career--there was a small room off the main rehearsal space, adjacent to the director's office. I don't know what it was SUPPOSED to be used for, but it became a sort of trophy repository. I always viewed it as a sort of museum. One day I was spending some time in there between music practice and outside marching practice. Hanging on the wall was a pressbox-view photo of the 1984 version of the marching band--Muleskinner's championship senior year. I was looking at it and remembering my younger memories of standing on the stadium bench, conducting the groups in tandem with my brother who was off to the right and down on the field. 

I flipped the picture over and saw words written in ink pen. In my brother's familiar handwriting. I started to read. It was something he had written, describing his own feelings about the band and what it meant to him. I grabbed a piece of paper and copied it down. To this day I remember phrases. I have my paper somewhere, but I don't know where it is right now--and I wouldn't put it up without his approval anyway.

But if he ever says that it's okay, I do my best to find it.

"Muleskinner" is now much more than memories of high school long ago. He is and has always been a person that I have looked up to, admired, and wanted to emulate in many different part of my life. I am extremely grateful for all of the things we have shared and will share as we grow older every day.

Happy Birthday to you, bro! I only wish I was there right now to give you a hug while I say it in person.

Monday, March 09, 2009

Kid's knowledge

I've seen many different pieces of art at my kid's daycare recently and have usually forgotten to snap pictures of it for later review and discussion.

For instance, in mid-January, artwork similar to that seen above was done for Martin Luther King, Jr. and while I don't have complete recall on what the kids said, you can guess from the example I show above, the kids are typically blunt and fact-challenged in their statements. (Imagine stuff like "Martin Luther King, Jr. was shot" and stuff like that. The stuff I saw was funnier.)

But I liked this one, where the kid believes the planet rotates at the awesome speed of 20 miles per hour. Clearly, their concept of speed is limited or they might realize that their every day car that takes them from their house to daycare every day is (in fact) a time machine, capable of out speeding the Earth's rotation and transporting them into next week (or last week?) as they drive down the road faster than the planet itself spins around the Sun.

I'm sure there is a LOST reference here . . . but I'll just leave it there.

Sunday, March 08, 2009


Up until now this whole year, I've been writing a blog post and setting it to go live the next day. But yesterday and today, I've slipped outside of that schedule and posted on the same day that it goes live. 

That works fine on the weekends, but I realized earlier today that posting today will only meet the Sunday requirements. I'd have to write a second post to get back on the day-ahead plan and have something ready to go on Monday morning when your eager eyes search out those familiar letters WWYG?!

And, as I'm sure you can anticipate, I don't have any inkling what I might find to post about twice on one day. My days aren't usually so interesting to stretch out into more than one day.


I can report that I took Sarah to a roller skating party a few hours ago, up in Sunbury. I found the place without any trouble--more on why that occurred later--and got to see Sarah attempt to skate. It, of course, brought back many of my own memories of my own days roller skating. My signature move was holding on the cement block wall circling the cement floor of the Tifton Roller Drome. (Anyone who saw me attempt to ice-skate a few Christmases ago will remember that I used a remarkably similar strategy then.)

When I wasn't hugging the wall and avoiding all attempts to get me to "limbo" or "hokey-pokey"--which involved congregating in the center of the rink, far, faaar away from the life-giving wall--I was able to get some forward momentum on the carpet. I don't really know why that allowed me to do a better job, but that got me over the the arcade games anyway, so I wasn't that upset.

Sarah tried her best to skate, but even before I left she had abandoned the foot skates and was using a three-wheeled scooter that they provide to kids.

I'll be off to pick her up in the next fifteen minutes or so. Hopefully she had a good time. And then I'll decide if I'm going to do any work tonight. (The time change has left me sleepy all day, so I might NOT be too jazzed to pursue it. More's the pity on Monday morning, when I'm faced with the backlog. But, don't borrow trouble.)

Saturday, March 07, 2009

A breath of fresh air

It's wonderful what a temperate day can do to your spirits. Windows in the house are open and I am breathing fresh air flow into a house shut too long against the elements.


Lynda's parents arrive by plane later today. We are busy cleaning, straightening, shoving stuff out of sight . . . you know how it goes. "Sure, we live neat as a pin all the time . . . don't you?" But besides providing welcome company, it always gives us reason to clean more than usual--which is not much.

I'm glad they are coming when the weather is nice. It might rain, but as least the temperature is pleasing and the chance for sunlight is worth talking about. Heck, the whole family got out and walked for about an hour this morning before lunch. It was nice to feel a bit of sweat on my back and the work the legs more. Come on nice weather!


I also went to my regular eye doctor this morning. It is clear that my prescription has improved greatly since the cataract surgery, so I am needing new glasses. Additionally, the artificial lens near-focus limitations means that I will be featuring a "progressive" lens (what your parents called bi-focals) on the left side. It should take a few days to get used to it, so expect to see me holding papers out at arms length, tilting my head this way and that like a senior citizen trying to decide what soup to order off the menu.

Well, that's it for now. I had some other blogging plans for today, but household chores and familial welcoming--not to mention LOTS of grocery shopping demand that I leave it there.

"Talk" to you again tomorrow. (And sorry for the late post today.)

Friday, March 06, 2009


A quick post today while I sort out how to discuss other things . . .

Thursday morning I spent the morning hours at home with Hannah. She has been battling pink eye all week, so Lynda and I have been trading off time at home and time in the office. It's been a new adventure every morning, checking our work schedules, determining who could stay home with her the whole day or maybe only a half day (where we switch at lunchtime like a tag team). Add to that the fact that Sarah and Grace have both battled brief stomach illness also this week and that Grace has had a pretty severely congestive cold . . . and you can see that it's been mostly working at home with week.

Such events come with the territory when you have small kids--the littlest of which spends a great deal of time in a daycare toddler room that is wall-to-wall runny noses and God knows what else during the winter months.

But Spring is slowly approaching. Flowers may not yet be ready to bloom, but the Spring Ritz crackers are migrating north again after spending the bitter weather farther south.

What, you didn't know about the annual migration of Spring Ritz crackers? Sure, they LOOK like regular Ritz, but they are slightly less buttery (to help you fit into that swimsuit . . .) and they have a flower patter baked right in.


When I was taking the older girls to school Thursday morning (they are finally feeling well enough to go . . . though Hannah needed another day), I discovered something that I truly love to do. And in this week and these past weeks when all I seemed to do was think negatively . . . it was good to think of something nice.

I LOVE to make my girls laugh. And I do it in the finest Ken Martin (my dad) style, with carefully selected teasing stories. I like to spin out baroque tales of improbable things that I will do, watching their faces as they digest the outlandishness of it all. Sarah is old enough, wise enough, and experienced enough to know when I start down this teasing path. Often she plays along to extend the fun. But Grace is still impressionable enough to always ask if I really intend to do what I am describing.

On Thursday, for example, I began riffing on the fact that Sarah was heading over to a friend's house that night for a sleepover (teacher work day on Friday means no school). From there I informed Grace that she would have to take care of Hannah on Friday since Mom and I would be going out to relax and party. Grace would be responsible for feeding Hannah, feeding herself, and cleaning up the house.

Grace laughed, but always took the time to ask--"Daddy, are you and Mommy really going to do that?" But she always says it with a smile in her eyes. I usually play out the tease a bit longer before letting her off the hook.

But we all get a laugh and a smile out of it. And that is very meaningful to me these days. I hope I will always be able to get them to laugh and smile.

Thursday, March 05, 2009

LOST Spoilers within (and other stuff)--w/ video update!

Wednesday night's episode of LOST ("La Fleur") was one of the show's most poignant offerings. It confirmed what many of us had suspected--that Jack, Kate, and Hurley had met up with Jin in the DHARMA Initiative past. It further (and quite interestingly) showed that Jin was helping the DHARMA Initiative along with Juliet and Sawyer. We got lots of Horace Goodspeed (before he built the Jacob cabin and before he got gassed--along with the rest of DHARMA in the Ben/Others-led Purge).

Some random thoughts:

1. Are you, like me, hoping that Horace names his new son Jacob? (Not that this would necessarily mean anything . . . but anyway.)

2. The STATUE!!! We actually saw it whole, if only from the back. (I'd love to know who's face is on that thing.) But then we were cruelly time-jumped away.

3. I laughed out loud when Sawyer made the Richard Alpert eyeliner joke. Poor Nestor. But a nice nod to the fans. 

4. Where are Miles and Daniel? Are they helping Jin search the Island for when Locke reappeared? And if that is true, where are they living? Maybe the Flame Station? Are they living with the Others? Are Sawyer (Mr. Jim LaFleur) and Jin secretly working with Richard and the Others to search for Locke? And if THAT is true, how are they doing it without the knowledge of the rest of the DHARMA group?

5. Why, oh WHY didn't we get to see the scene where little Benji Linus and his workman dad walk off the dock onto the Island? Well, I guess we'll be treated to that delicious scene in upcoming weeks. And if they don't allow Juliet to be there when that happens, so we can see her face as her tormentor appears . . . well, that would simply be bad television.

6. Several people were wearing DHARMA jumpsuits--both Sawyer and Jin, I believe--with a star symbol patch. I wonder what that signified?

6. Sadly the episode had nothing to do with veela or Bill Weasley's wife. (That's a shout out to my Harry Potter-lovin' readers.)

7. Here is this week's episode of LOST "Untangled":


But enough about LOST.

Lulu has thrown statistics like these to us before, but hearing it AGAIN from a different source is always helpful and persuasive.

And since this is the Lenten season, when people are (even if temporarily) adjusting their eating habits for religious reasons . . . you (and I) might find that doing without meat a little more often is only quite doable, but heathly, and environmentally sound as well.

Wednesday, March 04, 2009


Blogging is a way to put yourself out there in the world. But are you prepared to learn what it looks like out there?

I am trying to take a little time each day this year to put a little piece of me out there for public display. Am I prepared for what that says about me?

In the past, I've blogged when I felt like it or when I felt like I had something to say. But now that I have created this artificial motivation of daily entry, there is even less structure on my postings. You might argue that this provides a truer window into my personality than in the past, as I have to give you a daily dose of me, which would inevitable show more facets of my personality (publicly projected, but eventually more based in truth) over time.

Am I prepared to let my guard down enough to let more of me out? Am I further prepared for the opinions people form?

I'm not an ogre. But I'm not all sweetness and light either. My public personality is (maybe?) more positive than the reality--and yes friends and family, I hear you laughing at that. "Quit deluding yourself further!" you shout.

Maybe I picked a bad time to blog every day? This winter has been busy, stressful, and pushed me into surliness more so than usual . . . I hope? Or maybe not. Maybe I am negative a lot. Maybe I need to find more positivity.

The only person who has any chance of knowing the real me is Lynda. She has seen all of me in and out up and down several times over. She's enjoyed me when happy and helped me when sad. (That is what the marriage vows say.) And she loves me. So, there is hope there.

Just gotta keep working on improvement.

Tuesday, March 03, 2009

I've stepped down a terrible rabbit hole

In an effort to provide higher quality videos in future posts, I attempted to learn (on the fly, of course) how to use iMovie--the film editing software that came preloaded on my iBook.

It is supposed to be simple--and I guess it might be--but I am stymied on how to crop out a few seconds of video here and there to make my finished movie flow better from thing to thing. I just haven't found the time to read the Help file and decipher the descriptions.

And it is a shame because by the time I commit myself back to this, the subject of this particular video will be out-of-date. So . . . if anyone out there knows how to use this program easily, come on over and hold my hand through this thing. In the end it'll result in better quality product on WWYG?! for everyone.


I'm wanted to get this done because I see that so many blogs are transitioning to vlogs these days (video blogs). And you certainly know that I've been relying on lots of video segments to get me through the 365 day challenge. But my videos are fairly uninspired and I am cursed with a desire to match some of the more excellent (and creative) things that I see out there every day.

But I don't want to spend too much time lamenting how much better everyone else's blogs are than mine. Its a tired old song that I've sung too often. I am resolved to just keep throwing my stuff up there and learning skills and refinements a bit at a time. You will just have to be the unwilling guinea pigs of my live experimentation.

I'd beg your pardon, but you are always free to leave and go elsewhere for your daily blogging needs. (But don't, really!)

Monday, March 02, 2009

Call me insane if you want to . . .

. . . but since the Internet is free, I thought I'd take up as much of it as I can.

For a long time I've been noodling around with another new idea and (maybe because of writer's bloc) I've decided to go public with it today.

Introducing Raising the Awesome Family, a different site with a slightly different focal point.

It's part self help, part self-aggrandizement, a bit of posturing, a dash of snark, and a cynical shake of commerce all rolled into one. How far can it go? Well, as far as I let it go I guess. (And judging by the carcasses of other blog ideas that I've had to step over or around to get to this post . . . well, you can be your own judge of that.)

But, it'll be something new and for a while, that is a good thing. Perhaps it will capture my imagination and invigorate my creative juices and propel me to heights of blogging that I have not even dreamed of before.

One thing is for sure, however. It WILL be AWESOME.

Sunday, March 01, 2009

Camera phone meets grocery store

It's a common blogging trope.

But it's fun.

Take pictures of stuff at the grocery store and whip up a story.

See the whole set of images and thoughts here.